Freaks to Lovers

5. Princess Leia

Whap!

A balled-up pillow crashes into the side of your face. You groan with your eyebrows immediately furrowing together. Snatching the pillow off so you can see again, you glare in the direction it came from.

"What the hell?" you bark.

"Breakfast!" Mike shouts before stomping back upstairs. That boy is of few words and harsh manners sometimes and it gets under your skin. Strike One. Not today. I am not dealing with this bullshit today.

You force yourself to sit up, chucking the pillow across the room where Mike had been sleeping with as much force as you can muster. It lands with a light thump and slides into the wall. It knocks into some of Mike's D&D figures he left out, but you don't care. He smacks you in the face, you shove his minis over, seems like a fair trade to you.

Last night was rough, to say the least. You didn't get a lick of sleep at all during the night. Staying up until almost 3 a.m. swimming and then Eddie's bombshell of a confession left you no chance in hell that you would get even an ounce of rest. Your mind wouldn't and couldn't leave it alone.

I mean, what even was that? Every word, every nervous habit Eddie did replays in your memories as if that would change the ending. No matter how many times you relived it, the ending stayed the same. So, he just admits to staring at you most of the night, calls you attractive again, leans in to almost kiss you, and then darts? Is he kidding me? Strike Two.

But that's Eddie Munson for you: always running. He runs away from all of his problems, something you could sympathize with but never entirely understand. Upon meeting him early in high school, you watched as he built every wall around him to keep himself guarded. You tried finding any holes or unsteady spots in the structure to peer through but to no avail. With his family the way that they were, he first ran off to live with his uncle Wayne instead as soon as he was able. Then he ran from any new nickname the jocks came up with by keeping his head down and blocking out the world around him. With every nasty comment on the "satanic game," he bit his tongue instead of shouting his true feelings back. Even when what's-his-face shoved you Friday morning, Eddie didn't do a damn thing. Of course, he would rant your ear off after school about how stupid and horrible the majority of Hawkins High truly was, but he never actually lived up to his words or threats of ever taking care of them.

Last night, he literally ran.

He's never seemed to have stopped running the whole time you knew him.

You've barely woken up and already you're irritated still thinking about what happened.

No, you're annoyed.

No. You're worse: bitchy.

You groan and wipe a hand down your face attempting to smooth out any frown lines on your forehead. With a small sigh, you stand letting the blanket fall to the floor in a heap at your feet. Stretching your stiff limbs, you look around and notice that no one else is in the basement. The guys must have been too hungry to wait around for you. Surprisingly, you didn't hear any of them wake up since they aren't the most considerate bunch. Maybe you did fall asleep for a moment, but still, it irks you that no one bothered to wake you so you could eat, too. Strike Three.

Glancing down at your pajamas, you decide against changing into real clothes. Honestly, you can't be bothered to change; you already don't feel like yourself from the lack of sleep, so the Iron Maiden tee stays on. Besides, it's going to be an all-day session and you want to be as comfortable as possible, and wearing stiff and scratchy jeans would simply make your day worse than it already is.